I was out in the forest in my buckboard taking photos with my new photo machine when I saw her. She was crouched low in the thicket. Part of her tattered garment was exposed enough to give away her location.
When I approached, I heard a whimper followed by the rustling of shrubs. I thought for sure she was going to bolt. She seemed frightened about something.
I was curious enough to take my equipment back to the buckboard. I returned with my lunch basket. Then I sat down a short distance away and spread out a blanket on the ground.
I said out loud, “Mighty fine day for a picnic in the woods, wouldn’t you say? It’d be a shame not to be able to enjoy it with someone. Besides, I certainly brought more than enough to eat.”
I pulled out a drumstick and started to eat. Charlotte always did make mighty fine fried chicken. She was kind of sweet on me.
She was still in the thicket. So I put a piece of chicken on a piece of newspaper. Then I got up, walked over and placed it down in front of the shrub before walking back to my picnic basket. When I turned to look, the paper and chicken were gone.
I thought I heard the sound of someone ravenously devouring that drumstick. “There’s more out here if you want. But you’ll have to come out to eat it. Afterwards, you can go back to your thicket if you prefer.”
A head slowly emerged. Right away I understood the situation. It almost broke my heart.
She looked young enough to be my daughter. But Mary had gotten married and moved back East, leaving me alone. I couldn’t blame her, as the hills of Kentucky were no place for a woman who preferred city life.
Her tattered garments disguised her dark, physical features. I motioned her to come over and have another piece of chicken. I told her I wasn’t the least bit interested in who she was or where she’d come from. I just had plenty of chicken because Charlotte wanted to make sure I didn’t go hungry.
She hesitantly came out of the thicket. She wandered over and sat down. I pulled out the rest of the chicken and set it right in front of her.
She ravenously attacked it. Charlotte had certainly done well. This time there was nothing left over.
I finally said, “Somebody’s looking for you, aren’t they?”
She stiffened as though preparing to bolt. She didn’t nod her head, nor did she give a yay or nay. But I thought I saw her start to tremble.
“You don’t want to go back, do you?”
I thought I saw a tear in her eye. Then her head shook as though indicating, “No, I don’t.” I nodded in understanding.
“Ok. I hope you don’t mind my being around your thicket. I just came out here to try my hand at being a photographer. You can watch me or you can return to your thicket. I don’t mind either way.”
It was nice to see she did not return to her thicket.
I retrieved my equipment from the buckboard and set up the tripod. But I only took half a dozen photos. I was careful with the shots I chose. After all, film is expensive and hard to come by.
She watched me the whole time. I offered to take a photo of her. But she seemed frightened of that, so I didn’t.
When I was done, I told her I was headed back home. I told her I lived on the outskirts of a small village. If she wanted to come along, she could duck down in my buckboard so she wouldn’t be seen. Or she could stay out here in her thicket. But I couldn’t promise I would return.
She looked at me for a long moment. Then she helped me put my equipment back into the buckboard. When we were done, she crawled into the back under a canvas as I took my seat. A flick of the reins, and Winnie headed us home at a leisurely trot.
—
She started speaking when I fed her stew for supper. She said her name was Phibe. She’d run away with her two brothers.
When their pursuers had gotten close, she’d jumped into the river. Her brothers had stayed on the bank to distract the men from finding her. She heard cries as well as the sound of whipping. Then they all disappeared.
I fully understood her dilemma. And I was sympathetic. I told her I wasn’t the least bit interested in reporting her. She reminded me too much of my daughter Mary, despite the color of her skin. I was happy for the company.
She stayed the night. More nights were to follow. She seemed shy and innocent. But looks were deceiving. I was all but certain of the abuse she’d no doubt received where she’d come from… and would receive again were she ever to go back.
—
Things changed when three Southerners stopped by. They said they were looking for escaped slaves. I told them I hadn’t seen any. Besides, I was too eccentric, what with my equipment and all.
Half the village thought I was a loon. I told them any slaves who came around here would take one look at me and run. That seemed to satisfy them.
I waited until they were long gone before fetching Phibe from her hiding place. She looked very sad. Then she told me, “They’ll keep coming back until they find me… or others like me. Then they’ll hurt you. They always do.”
I told her I could help her keep running. There were places farther north she could go. But she told me she was tired of running.
She asked me about the photos I took. She remarked how long they might last. I told her I didn’t know… months… years… maybe even decades. Photography was still in its infancy. But newspaper lasted a long time if it was well kept. I figured photographs would last even longer.
She hesitated a moment. Then she carefully asked, “Hiram? Would you… take a photograph of me?”
“I thought you didn’t want any photographs taken. I thought you were afraid of them falling into the wrong hands.
“They’ll be around a long time, won’t they?”
“Longer than I will, child.”
She said please. I didn’t want them to fall into the wrong hands. But how could I say no to her?
—
Charlotte gave me permission to film in one of her rooms. I thought it would be better than in any of mine. After all, my wallpaper was falling apart.
I told Charlotte I needed to be alone. I had a model who was just passing through. She was shy and wanted me to take photos without anyone present.
Charlotte saw right through me, just as I’d anticipated. But she accepted my conditions anyway. Charlotte always was kind of sweet on me.
I made sure Phibe kept out of sight in the back of my buckboard. Charlotte lived on a lane without a lot of neighbors. But I still wanted to be careful.
Once we got inside, I set up the equipment on my tripod in Charlotte’s drawing room. She even offered to let me use a couple of her dresses for my model. When Phibe put one on, she looked lovely. It made her come alive as the young woman she was rapidly becoming.
For the first time in many years, I began to get a rise down below. Normally I would have been embarrassed. But losing my wife to the sickness so many years ago had made that area inactive. That’s why Charlotte and I had never married.
I took three photos of Phibe. I told her I couldn’t promise how they would turn out. I think she saw the reaction she was having on me. It embarrassed me.
She asked if she could remove the dress she was wearing for a couple more photos. I told her I was old enough to be her father and didn’t want to shame her. She said it was no shame, considering what she’d already endured where she’d come from.
She sensuously removed the dress. I snapped another photo with trembling hands. I couldn’t believe the effect she was having on me.
She smiled shyly at me. Then she got sad again. “Hiram, do you have enough film to take a few more photos of me?”
I told her I did. She told me to wait where I was. Then she left the room.
At first I wondered what she was doing. She wasn’t robbing Charlotte, was she? I couldn’t allow that, no matter how I may have felt about her.
When she returned, I was shocked at what was in her hand. She was carrying a length of rope. One end had been formed into a noose.
“Phibe, what’s the meaning of this?”
“Is it ok if it’s in the photo? That way if anybody sees it…”
I was beginning to understand. “They’ll think that’s what happened to you?” She nodded her head.
“Phibe, I can’t take a photo of you with a thing like that hanging in view!”
“Please, Hiram?”
I shook my head. I didn’t like where this was going. Yet a part of me understood what she was thinking. Maybe if the photos did fall into the wrong hands, they would assume she’d been hanged. Maybe they would stop looking for her.
I reluctantly agreed. She used one of Charlotte’s dresses as a prop. I took two photos. Her naked image with the noose in the background had a profound effect on me. I was shamefully embarrassed again.
I told her it was getting late. We needed to leave before Charlotte returned. I wanted to be off the lane in case any of the neighbors might be out.
She helped me pack the buckboard. Then I took her home. She seemed unusually quiet and sad.
I fed her some stew. Then I put her to bed. As usual, I slept on the floor in the kitchen.
—
Part 2
The next day Charlotte showed up with some fried chicken and apple pie. I asked her what the occasion was. She told me she wanted to fix extra in case I had a visitor for lunch.
I gave her a look of concern. She just gave me a dismissive wave. “Don’t worry, Hiram. If you don’t eat it all today, you’ll finish it tomorrow. I know how much you like my fried chicken. You won’t let it go to waste.”
I was sure she knew something. She just smiled and wished me a good day. Then she was gone.
Phibe came out of hiding. She smiled as she remarked, “She’s a nice lady; isn’t she, Hiram?”
“Yes, Phibe; she certainly is.”
“Can we go on a picnic in the woods today… out where you found me? Could you bring your photo equipment?”
“Want to make a day of it, Phibe?” She smiled and nodded.
We packed everything into the buckboard. She ducked in back to hide under some canvas. Then I directed Winnie off to the forest.
After we arrived, Phibe and I went for a little walk. We found a different spot where she wanted to lay out the blanket for lunch. It was in a small, earthen clearing.
Lunch was bittersweet. I sensed something was wrong. I had the feeling Phibe was about to leave me. But I decided not to bring it up. I didn’t want to spoil the meal, nor the pleasant afternoon we were sharing together.
Afterwards, she helped me set up the equipment. Then she revealed a couple of additional items under the tarp she’d snuck in without my noticing. One was a spade.
The other was Charlotte’s rope, still fashioned into a noose…
I looked at her in shock. That’s when Phibe told me, “I’m not going back, Hiram. But I’m not leaving either. So I want to know if you would take a couple more photos of me.”
I felt a lump in my throat as I started to protest. “Phibe, we’re not doing this!”
“I’m not going back, Hiram. But I don’t want to hide anymore. And I’m not going to run. This is the only way out for me.”
She sounded adamant… resolute. But so was I. “Phibe, I’m not going to hang you.”
“Then I’ll hang myself, Hiram. I only want you to help me. And I want you to take a couple of photos… so people will know…”
Her voice broke. Then she paused to compose herself before finishing her thought… “…so that people will know I was… that I was alive and free… if only for a little while.”
“Phibe, I…”
“If you don’t do this, Hiram, you know that eventually I’ll be captured. You know what they’ll do to me, don’t you? I might not even make it all the way back.”
I nodded. I could only imagine what might happen to her. I didn’t want to dwell on it.
We went back to that little clearing. She’d already picked out a tree. I guess I shouldn’t have been all that surprised.
I dug a little grave nearby. When I was done, we ate the rest of the chicken and the pie. Then Phibe got naked. She wanted to be nude when I took the last of her photos.
I got one of her standing there in the clearing. Then she wrapped the noose around her neck and posed. She held her arms behind her back until I snapped off another photo.
Afterwards we stretched out on the blanket together. She was still naked. I was amazingly stirred by her beauty… shamefully stirred.
She quietly said, “All I ask is you take one more photo of me, Hiram. Please wait until I’m dangling from the noose, ok?”
“Phibe, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” Then she kissed me.
I don’t know where it came from or what came over me. Even Charlotte had not brought it out of me. But that’s when my passions unexpectedly overwhelmed me.
I took her right there on the blanket. It was shameful. When we were done and panting for breath, I profusely apologized.
She told me it was all right. She figured she would be taken like that and much worse once she was caught and on her way back. She was glad I had acted that way as she figured she deserved it for running away.
I told her she deserved nothing of the sort. In response she kissed me hard. Then she begged me to make love to my condemned runaway one last time before I hanged her.
Taking her the first time had come as a shock… a surprise… even a miracle of sorts. The second time was even more unexpected. I don’t know if it was her nudity, the solemnness of the moment, or the fact she would soon be dangling from the noose. All I know is that I ravished her.
She responded willingly…
Afterwards, we rested on the blanket in the afterglow of our coupling. That’s when sadness filled her features. She paused to compose herself. Then she stood resolute with a determined look on her face.
“Now hang me, Hiram. Hang me and bury me. You have the photos of my existence. It is enough for me to know that someday people will know I existed and that I had to be hanged for running away.”
I sighed heavily. Then I took a length of cord from the basket I’d brought with us. She wanted me to bind her arms behind her back.
She said she’d witnessed other hangings back where she’d come from. She wanted to be hanged the very same way. She did not want my sympathy or pity. She only wanted my help… and my lust.
I hesitated, and for a moment I almost backed out. Then I decided to grant her final request. In our last moments together, I could only try to give her what she wished for.
I noosed her up with her arms behind her back. Unbelievably, I began to stiffen again in my nudity as she wanted me naked for the task at hand. She saw my excitement and smiled as though she approved.
She looked at me calmly. Then she told me, “I’m not going back, Hiram”
I told her, “No, you’re not, Phibe.”
I gave her a moment to catch her breath. Then I pulled on the rope, taking her up into the air. I tied off the loose end and then watched her kick.
I’m ashamed to report how stiff I became at observing her suffering. Inside, my heart was breaking. It was Mary leaving all over again… and losing my wife to that sickness. But Mary had to go back East to be happy. Phibe was seeking happiness in her own way.
She kicked and suffered for several minutes. Her breasts were full and swollen, evidence she’d become a fine, young woman. She leaked from between her legs, evidence of our recent coupling. I was sad she would never know what it was like to become a mother.
While she was still conscious, I went over to my equipment and prepared to take another photo. It looked like she was really suffering as she strangled in the noose. But I thought I saw a flash of something appreciative in her eyes the moment I took the photo.
She began to settle down. Then she soiled herself. I took one last photo. Then I took her down.
I redressed her before burying her. I wept the entire time. When I was done I collected all my belongings before heading back to the buckboard.
EPILOGUE
I returned a few days later. I buried a couple of pictures in the ground close to her body to say my final goodbyes. That was the last I ever saw of her grave. I never went back.
I had to buy another rope for Charlotte. I could not risk letting her see the one I’d used on Phibe. I had left that one in the ground with her as I could not bring myself to haul it back.
After a week, I paid my respects to Charlotte. I presented her the new rope and made my apologies. She thought she’s misplaced it and was appreciative of my consideration.
We sat and talked for the longest time until she asked about my recent boarder. I told her the young lady had moved on. I was sure I would never see her again. That’s when I broke down and cried.
Charlotte was tender and understanding. She consoled me until I strangely found myself becoming stiff. When she offered her usual kiss of kindness and concern, I was more than a little ardent in returning it.
My passion caught her by surprise, although it was a welcome one. That evening I stayed with her. We spent the entire night making love.
Within three months, we were wed.
2019 (written Oct 28 ’19 by riwa. Inspired by the manip I found on the Internet.)